


Paper Dolls

by iLouisLube



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Bottom Louis, Bullying, Depression, Eating Disorders, Fashion Designer Harry, Louis-centric, M/M, Model Louis, Modeling, More tags later, Top Harry, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 18:04:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5636638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iLouisLube/pseuds/iLouisLube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson is an aspiring model, on a strict diet and exercise regime to try and thin out his thighs. He was insecure, shy and anxious especially about his appearance, even though he gets told every day how beautiful he is he never believes it. Until a certain fashion designer who mixes flowery shirts and fedoras tells him so. Then, with some persuasion, he might believe it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Dolls

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer!  
> I do not own the characters of One Direction but I do own the story line and would appreciate if no one copies. I am okay with getting inspiration from this story, but blatantly copying it is against the law. Thank you.  
> Also, I am not in the modeling business and so if some things that the characters do in this book, are far fetched or wouldn't happen, please keep it to yourselves and use your imagination, I am not an expert on the subject.   
> This fic may be triggering so please read the tags carefully as I do not want anyone getting upset over this fic, it is meant to show the fact that everyone is beautiful no matter what others say, and there will always be someone out there who agrees and love you.

Chapter One  
Standing in the dressing room in nothing but his boxers, Louis feels self-conscious. Other models filter through the room, getting dressed up in their clothing for the shoot before leaving to see the stylists. In Louis’ eyes, everyone in the room looks perfect, their bodies perfectly toned, their skin glowing. 

It is when his eyes would glance down towards his own thighs or stomach, as he stood nervously in the corner of the room, waiting to be called. That is when he feels the most self-conscious. He had been in the room waiting for just over an hour and he still hadn’t been called. All the other models got seen as soon as they walked through the double doors, yet here Louis still was, standing anxiously in the corner, waiting. He didn’t understand why he seemed invisible to them; he was by far the largest person in the room. 

“Eh, Lewis Tomlinson?” 

“It’s Louis…” The poor boy stammered as he walked forward, his hand up. 

Louis could feel the stares of everyone in the room, their eyes raking up and down his body like he is some animal at the zoo.

“You will not correct me Louis.”

The designer just glared at him, daring Louis to reply. The boy was usually a very sassy person, but not when he walks through the doors of the modelling agency, then he turns quieter than a mouse. And so he suppressed all of the snarky comebacks and bit his lip, nodding.

“Well come here then, I do not have all day.” The designer waved his hand in the air, rolling his eyes as he made eye contact with another model. Louis felt his cheeks heat up, stumbling over himself to get to the fashion designer that will be choosing his outfit. 

“Hmmmm, I am not too sure we have something that will fit you, eh, body shape.”

That hurt. Louis could feel the pressure in his eyes; tears were beginning to form as he glanced down at himself again. He knew that he was a little bit larger than the other models, but no one had actually said so before. It hurt so bad, but he just sucked it up and made a promise to himself that he would try harder to lose weight. 

“Not a talker are you. Well that is good, we do not like people that talk too much.” The designer had an obviously fake French accent as he talked which was starting to really grate on Louis. He was decked out in skinny jeans which made his legs look like matchsticks and a plain white shirt, black hoodie and jean jacket. His hair was colourful and he had huge, black rimmed Ray Bans on with no lenses. He basically looked like any stylish teenage, only this man was about 38. 

“This might fit. I have told these model agencies I only want the best and slimmest size for my clothing but whatever.” 

What he handed Louis was a pair of super skinny black jeans (that is literally what the label read) a graphic tee and a snapback with the designers logo on it. The worst part was the fact that he had to squeeze into these jeans, in front of everyone else in the room. And they all watched. Every other model, whom Louis was positive that they could just slip into their super skinny jeans, watched. 

“Come on, we have very little time Lewis.” 

The boy decided to late the fact that he got his name wrong again slip, although, going by that smirk he did it on purpose. 

For the next half an hour, Louis posed in an alleyway on the streets of London with a skateboard and a sassy look on his face. At first he felt a little awkward seeing as the designer was so rude, but the photographer was very nice to him, putting the boy at ease quickly causing him to pose naturally. 

“That was great Louis! I got some really good pictures; about three of them were amazing, well done!” He was showered with praise from the photographer, making the boy smile. “This one where you’re against the wall just has to be on the front cover!” He continued to gush as he flicked quickly through all of the photos they had taken.

“Thank you so much.” Louis smiled gratefully as he looked down at the floor. This photographer was really making his day, and he didn’t even know his name.

“I don’t even think you need any Photoshop in this one, your facial expression is just perfect! Moody but not too moody, ya know?” The boy glanced up from his camera, shooting Louis a smile which melted his heart. This boy was so sweet.

“Thank you….” Louis paused, looking up flustered.

“Kieran.” 

“Well, thank you Kieran, that was a good shoot.” 

Louis was on a high when he finally came back to the building, taking the elevator up towards the dressing room. The room was slightly less busy now that the day was coming to a close, Louis would have to get in a taxi to get home, seeing as it is winter and basically pitch black outside by the time he would be leaving. 

He stood at the door, hovering as he watched the dreadful designer and other models run around the room, packing everything away. Once the designer looked up and saw the poor, he rolled his eyes again and gestured for Louis to enter the room. 

“Hurry up and take that off, we are packing away.” He snapped, turning around to grab a random air of shoes that were laying on the floor. 

Louis quickly stripped, grabbing his backpack which contained his clothes and pulling them on. Louis didn’t check his clothes, in such a hurry to be able to give the designer his clothes back. Louis always had a streak in him where he wanted everyone’s approval, and it was eating him alive knowing that the man didn’t like him. 

“Where should I put these?” Louis asked as he stood behind the designer nervously. The man spun on his heels, ready to vaguely point to the bag in the corner which was overflowing with boxes for the clothing, when he noticed the state that Louis’ clothes were in.

“Maybe you should keep them because honey, that is not a good look.” He pointed towards Louis’ shirt. 

Louis glances down, the colour literally draining form his cheeks. Someone, probably one of the other models, had written in black sharpie the words ‘fatty’ right across his brand new Abercrombie and Fitch shirt which he had saved up months for. 

“Uhmmm, thanks but uh, I’ll be fine.” Louis choked on his own words, turning and practically sprinting out of the building, tears already falling down his cheeks. He never felt more embarrassed in his whole life. 

Waving down a taxi, Louis tried to wipe the tears that were still cascading, but every time he thought about what had happened, he just sobbed harder. Who was he trying to kid, models are not meant to be fat. 

“Where to lad?” The taxi driver asked as he hopped into the back of a classic black London one. Usually Louis loved taking taxis, chatting to the driver and watching the people fly past, but today he just about managed to choke out his address. “Woah, are you alright there kid?” 

“Fine thanks.” Louis mumbled, wiping his face. He felt like a complete loser. The driver could quite clearly see his shirt, and the writing was very bold. He chose not to mention it though, and just drove quickly; assuming Louis just wanted to get home as fast as possible. 

The boy didn’t even spare a glance as he paid for the taxi, which had only come to a little over £10 but he threw a twenty pound note to the front of the car and sprinted up the steps towards his apartment building. The elevator ride was uneventful and soon Louis found himself in the safety of his flat, immediately ripping off his shirt. 

“You alright there Louis?” His flat mate Zayn asked, Louis hadn’t even heard the lads footsteps as he continued to breathe heavily at the door. 

“Yeah, just spilled coffee on my shirt” Louis plastered a smile on his face, skidding past his friend and locking himself in his bedroom. 

And of course he didn’t come out when Zayn asked him if he wanted to order takeaway, he just sat in his room the whole night, staring at that 5 letter word, with tear streaks staining his cheeks, and a grumbling stomach.


End file.
